What Really Happened
by Chick Flicks- Rock 'N' Roll
Summary: A different view of what happened between Ron and Hermione, and later on what happened after the end of the war. Deathly Hallows spoliers but will not stick to the epilogue. Hope you enjoy. RHr.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **There will be Deathly Hallows spoilers in this story. That is not to say that this story will stick exactly to the plot of the final Harry Potter installment. The epilogue can be forgotten completely, not that it wasn't good, but Ron would never name his child Hugo.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and the characters in the series belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1- What Really Happened When Harry Wasn't Looking

----------------------------------Bill And Fleur's Wedding------------------------------------------

As Viktor had appeared at the wedding, Ron felt the desperate need to pull Hermione aside. This was his chance to talk to her, his chance to set things right. As he pulled Hermione close to him, close enough to hear her heart beat, close enough to feel her hot breath on his chest. For several moments he just held her close, letting them sway to the music, dancing as slowly as they could, taking in every moment of it.

For Ron, dancing with Hermione was a whole new feeling. It wasn't just holding her close; he had done that before when comforting her at Dumbledore's funeral, or the execution of Buckbeak. No, dancing allowed him to be in control, allowed him to lead. Ron never had any authority, not with a best friend like Harry Potter, and a brilliant beauty like Hermione. Ron was the leader, he chose where they moved, how they flowed together.

As they continuously spun in large circles, Ron felt this was the time, the one moment where it was just them. There may have been dozens of other people in the tent, but no one could separate Ron and Hermione.

"'Mione?" Ron mustered, barely speaking loud enough for the curly haired witch four inches from his body to hear him.

"Yes, Ron." Hermione had taken her face out of his chest, now leaning her head up to look into Ron's eyes.

"It's just that, well, I've never been able to tell you something. And it's ripping, tearing my insides apart. I can't take the risk of you not knowing, because nobody knows what will happen as we enter the search for the horocruxes and the war. I just have to tell you. 'Mione, I, I, I……" his voice was faltering as he went on in his little speech.

"Ron, don't worry you can tell me anything. Unless it's that you are a Death Eater, because then I'll never…" Hermione giggled slightly and her bright white smile was enough to bring it out of Ron.

"Hermione, I love you." Ron said strongly, but still in a hushed voice, so none of the drunken reception guests would hear him.

Hermione's smile fell off of her face. Her eyes stared blankly at him, and Ron felt like the world was crashing down on him. Ron closed his eyes and released his tense breath, he looked down at his shoes. Hermione felt a rushing pang of guilt, and realized what was going through Ron's head. This isn't what she though at all, she felt the same way Ron did but, she was just completely in shock that he had come out with it now. She took her hand off of his shoulder and Ron just knew that she was pulling away from him, running away from him. Hermione proved him wrong.

She took her hand to his chin and tilted it up, knowing he would have to open his eyes and look at her. His crystal blue eyes were full of a fear she had never seen from him. Ron had faced danger and put his life on the line so many times but she had never seen him this sincerely worried. She felt even worse than she had a few seconds ago. Even in her four inch heels, Hermione's face was only level with Ron's collarbones, so she used his shoulders to pull herself to his face. Ron looked away, and therefore he was completely in shock when he felt her soft lips graze over his cheek.

-----------------------------------Number 12 Grimmuald Place-------------------------------------

Harry had left the room to do whatever it was he did when he disappeared. It was like every moment between Ron and Hermione were alone, Ron shied away from her as soon as Harry left from talking distance. Ron went to fiddle with his clothes as he faced a wall. Hermione let out a long needed sigh and knew it was time for her to speak up. Neither of them had spoken to one another about anything besides the horocrux hunt since their dance at the wedding reception.

"Ron, we've got to talk about this. You haven't looked at me in days, you won't even breathe near me. Ron, I hate what has come between us, and I don't even know what it it!" she let it out all in one breath, sucked another long breath in, and suddenly crumpled to the ground and burst into a fit of tears and ragged breaths. Ron turned around and quickly brought himself to her level, holding her shaking body in his arms, just as he had at Dumbledore's funeral. Ron had seen Hermione cry before, but she always kept herself composed. He had never seen her fall apart like this, and he wasn't sure he knew how to handle it.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen like well this. I can't stand not being able to talk to you, but please, oh please 'Mione don't cry." Ron could barely get the words out, as he felt each syllable choking him, tensing in his throat.

She sobbed even harder and curled herself completely within the shield created by his large chest and open arms.

"I'm…I'm scared Ron. I can't handle seeing you everyday, knowing how much you mean to me, how big a part of me you are, and not knowing what will happen to us. We're in a war and we may never see one another again. Every moment I have to think to myself, this could be the last time I ever see you. I hate this!" She seemed to be shuddering more than she had before she told Ron how she felt, which he hadn't expected to be possible. Ron pulled her entire body into his lap and squeezed her as tightly as possible, rocking their bodies trying his hardest to reassure her without having to search for the words he knew had escaped him the moment he heard her heart shattering tears hit the wrinkled blue material of her blouse.

After what felt like hours of holding her quivering body, Ron had stopped his rocking and noticed that Hermione's breathing was steadier and he could no longer feel the splashing of tears on his hands. What he did feel was a small hand wrapped within his, holding on tight enough to show it hadn't been by accident. He could feel her hands were thin and delicate but they had also been roughened by living in such strange conditions. Her thumbs were stained with the ink of the books she "so desperately clings to" in the words of Trelawney. Ron realized that these hands that flipped the pages of so many books had gotten him out of so many sticky situations.

Ron knew at this moment that these were the hands that he wanted to hold forever, the hands he wanted to slip that small gold band on, the hands he wanted to carry his small children, the hands he wanted to hold in his in their last moments. He pulled her slowly out of his lap and put her in her sleeping place but couldn't bring himself to detach them. He laid down on the cold ground next to her, squeezing her hand in his and quietly whispered

"I'm not going anywhere 'Mione, don't worry I'm not going anywhere"


	2. The Rushing Willow

**Author's Note: **I do not own Harry Potter, that's all the work of J.K. Rowling. I do however have mine own ideas of what would have happened behind the scenes and what might have happened opposed to the epilogue.

-------------------------------After Harry's Triumph Over Voldermort----------------------------

Ron didn't know what to think about the changes in the wizarding and muggle world. Voldermort was dead and there would no longer be the major threat of Death Eaters, the threat of Voldermort hunting down the trio. Most importantly to Ron, there would no longer be people hunting down Hermione because she happened to come from a family who weren't blessed with magic. Ron had been in his own hiding the entire time of their search for the horocruxes, and he was hiding to save his family. But Hermione, she was hiding because she and her entire family would be murdered. She had a terrible record with the Ministry of Magic; the muggle-born witch who was accomplice to Undesirable No. 1. There was a sudden feeling of relief that fell over Ron like a home knitted blanket.

Ron hadn't felt so free and relieved since McGonagall chose not to expel he and Harry in second year after the flying Ford Anglia incident. He may have felt relieved, but there was still something lurking inside him. What is there between he and Hermione? Nearly a year ago he had told her that he loved her, then she completely falls to pieces in his arms out of fear, and then during the battle she came out of the blue and kissed him. It seemed to him that the feeling was mutual but how could he know. Hermione had been scared the entire war and the fact that she may never see him again may have been her only motivation.

Ron couldn't love someone who didn't love him back. Was it possible that Hermione only acted like that to feel complete before he possibility of her own death? Did she need to feel loved? Ron knew she needed to be loved, as anyone did, but he needed her to love him. He needed to ask her, to find out the truth, but the last time he put his heart on the line he hadn't gotten any official response. The way Hermione had acted around Ron over the past year very obviously led to the idea that she loved him, or at least had feelings for him, but Ron was scared that it was all out of fear.

As he continued to walk around the Hogwarts grounds, he felt his pace slow, his heart's thudding no longer beat a thousand times a minute, and his breathing steadied. Ron saw Hermione's face looking at his. She was sitting in front of the small entrance through the Whomping Willow. The branches were swinging as much as usual, but there something more serene about them, something much more fluid about the way they moved. Hermione, his best friend, sat directly in front of him, with the lightest smile on her face, gazing into his own eyes. There was a look of confusion on her face, accompanied by desire and fear. Ron knew exactly how she felt.

It took all of the bravery in his heart to drag his shoes across the blood stained grass. It was only a few yards to the woman he believed to be the love of his life, and it felt like it would take forever to get close enough to feel her breath, touch her skin, and smell the very scent that defined her as Hermione. Ron wanted all of that, he needed it, but it was taking an eternity to get himself close enough.

Once his battered torn shoes had carried him the short distance he needed them too, he let his body lazily plop down on the ground next to her's. Ron let out a loud "Umphh" as his body hit the hard ground, but he tried to cover up his pain by moving him closer to Hermione. From less than a foot away he could barely smell Hermione, but that was because her own scent was masked by the sweat and blood of herself and others. Ron could see the trails of tears embedded in her face, their tracks had cleared the dirt and grime of battle off her innocent skin.

Hermione turned herself around, so that Ron was now facing her instead of hiding behind her. She lost the look of fear the moment she saw it on Ron's face. She knew that this was finally the moment, the time to tell all.

"Ron, I love you. I love you with all of my heart and nothing will ever change that." She said with a authoritative voice that Ron hadn't heard in months, it was her real voice.

"Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say something? We could have had so much more together!" He half yelled at her, knowing he should have restrained his voice, but he had to let it out.

"Because I couldn't bare to lose you! If we were together, it would have been so much worse to lose you! I couldn't let myself get any closer to you." She had raised her whisper to a high pitched scream. She stood herself up and the blood in her heart climbed high into her cheeks. The thick branches of the trees no longer swayed rhythmically as if there were some sort of musical wind, they had formed a complete cage around the two. Each branch had implanted itself into the grass and dirt beneath them. Ron hadn't seen Hermione explode like this before, he hadn't seen her this passionate in, in forever.

Ron couldn't deny the fact that this was an entirely different side of Hermione and he knew it would only make his love for her grow. He couldn't walk towards her when she was like this, his heart was beating so fast and his mind was so sure that he ran full heartedly towards Hermione. Ron immediately bent over and took her face in his hands, kissing her hard and trying with all of his might to match the passion he had just seen flaring in her eyes, match it all in one kiss.

As Ron pulled her face into his, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in even closer. All of the power in this kiss was flowing through Hermione and the air around them was rushing within the Willow cage. Ron could feel the passion inside of them surging, this painful amount of love, need, and desire spinning inside of them. Ron's world was finally the way it should be.


	3. The Stained Glass Window

**Author's Note:** J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, but I own parts of this plot. It's loosely based on Deathly Hallows, but I am excluding the epilogue.

------------------------------------The Head's Shared Quarters--------------------------------------

After the mind-boggling kiss shared between them, Ron and Hermione felt completely exhausted. It was as if their bodies had stored only enough energy to create this wonderful connection between them. After all of the power that poured from the "Chosen One's" best friends, after all of the love that spread between them, the two had collapsed onto the ground.  
What had happened the moment their lips met was inexplicable, or so they thought. Once every ounce of magic between them had created an odd surrounding power. Once their limp and passed out bodies had nearly hit the ground from sheer fatigue, two large branches from the caged willow reached out to catch them in their fall. As the branches bent to fit their bodies, they also lifted the two unconscious teens, higher and higher, through a dimly lit window in a tower resting over a finally free Hogwarts.

The castle was nowhere near quiet, quite the contrary actually. With the defeat of Voldermort and the knowledge of a free world, the students who were still there were carefree and ready to celebrate the triumph they had been waiting for since they were born. Even with all of the raucous below, Ron and Hermione still lay completely unconscious in a bed bigger than imaginable. A warm fire was glowing in front of them, a fire full of blazing golds and burgundies, which perfectly matched the Gryffindor adorned bedroom they lay in.

Finally after hours of tossing and refusing to find a comfortable position, a tall and thin teenage boy awoke from a surprisingly refreshing nap. He may have been moving around every five minutes, but there was something comforting about his slumber, something that felt different. When Ron sat himself up in the bed, stretched his lanky arms far above his head, he finally noticed the thin, feminine frame breathing what seemed like miles away from him. Hermione's massive amounts of curly brown hair had not been tamed completely over the years, and surrounded her tranquil face like a curly chocolaty brown halo.

Ron got on his hands and knees and tried to crawl across the bed to the sleeping angel, but was surprised when he sank into the soft bed beneath him. Ron continued his short crawling journey to Hermione, but couldn't handle himself once he was next to her. He took in a sharp breath and forced himself to let it out slowly, realizing how stunning Hermione looked. He leaned in closer to her face, only to feel his smile fall into a depressing state.

There were so many cuts and bruises along her face; so many times she had been hurt. All of these indications of war hurt Ron more than any curse could. Every scab and every purple bruise showed that he hadn't been able to protect her, that he hadn't saved her. He sat himself up, trying not to look at her face any longer. Ron's body fell relaxed and he slowly slipped backward, only to let his sullen skull hit the headboard. It didn't matter to him, the pain couldn't affect him.

Hermione finally began to awaken, her small body stretching across the silky pillows she so gracefully slept upon. Her eyes were slowly opening, flickering shut and trying to reject the light pouring in from the stained glass window. Hermione took her time allowing her body to wake up, taking in all that was around her; the intricately formed window, the burning embers, her silken sheets, Ron in nothing but boxers, the bed. Wait, Ron in his boxers? This had to be all-wrong, this is not the last thing she remembered. Honestly, the last memory that came to mind was kissing under the Whomping Willow.

No. This couldn't be possible. She hadn't, she couldn't have slept with Ron. Or could she have, Hermione thought as she looked at her own tangled hair and Ron's slight blush rose into his earlobes.

"Ron, did we?" Hermione had to bring herself to ask the question that hung over her head.

"Of course not." Ron replied what he felt was a bit too quickly "Not that it would have been a bad, it probably would have been quite nice. But no, we didn't, we just slept up here. I don't know how we got up here. Now that I think about it, where is here?" Ron spit it all out, rambling on and on trying to cover up the fact that he had just admitted sex with Hermione would have been enjoyable.

"This is the Head's Room, or so it seems." Hermione said without considering the fact that this was an odd thing to know off the top of your head.

"How….how do you know that?" Ron muttered, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Hogwarts: A History. The Head's Room is decorated in the colors of the Head's or Heads' house. It is more easily recognized by the well designed stained glass windows that decorate the bedrooms." Hermione recited the entry from her favorite book as if it were normal to memorize passages of encyclopedias.

"But surely no Head Boy or Girl could need a bed this large or a room that's so fancy!" Ron said not understanding why the room was so well decorated.

"Well….I am not really sure but rumor has it that Rowena Ravenclaw cast a charm on the Head's Quarters. It is said that the room is fully aware of a couple's potential and if they are destined to be together, in Rowena's opinion, then the Quarters are only equipped with one room, forcing the Heads to become closer than before. But this is obviously a glitch, seeing as we aren't the Head Girl and Boy." Hermione had been contemplating this since the moment she woke up in the room. She had ruled out the fact that she and Ron were destined to be together because she knew they weren't who the room was intended for.

"But Hermione, there were no Heads this year. Snape wouldn't allow there to be anymore authority besides himself. There were no Prefects either. This room had to be for us. We are the only ones who have been in here all year. This is our room." Ron said, suddenly had a burst of confidence. This was what was supposed to happen, this is where he was supposed to end up.


End file.
